Love, Art, and Murder: Mystery Romance

by Kenya Wright

  I paused for a minute.

  Why did Grandma say she would make sure Dayanara doesn’t get out? Did she say that? I turned to head back up to the attic, but stopped when I realized that asking Grandma would be a waste of time. If she wanted me to know something she would simply say it. If she didn’t, then I would have to figure it out on my own.

  Did Dayanara get out last night? No. There’s no way. Why would Dayanara come back to the house, if she had gotten free?

  That didn’t make any sense. If she’d snuck by everyone and found her freedom, she would have continued out the gates and to wherever she had hoped to go. Where would a deranged woman want to run to? She’d asked me to let her die. Her guilt rode her mind every day. All those deaths she’d stood by and allowed in the past, and now the very thought of her living safe in a grand castle messed with her mind. I couldn’t just sit there and watch her die. It wasn’t in my make-up to stand by as her blood streamed to the floor.

  Not that life wouldn’t have been easier if she was gone.

  I hated to admit it. My own guilt gnawed at my soul. To let her free would be to release a menace onto society. To let her die would be to rip the foundation of our family’s sanity apart.

  Feminine laughter flowed from further downstairs. It tickled my senses and woke up my body.

  “Stop it. You’re cracking me up.” That amused womanly sound soared up to me, again.

  I’d heard the other artists, writers, and models around this property from time to time. None of the women in that group giggled like that, as if this was the first time they’d laughed in many years. Elle. It had to be her downstairs, laughing in front of whoever entertained her at the moment.

  Who was it?

  No one who deserved her attention or had earned her time. I doubted it was even Hex making those beautiful noises rush out of her lips. My brother possessed many talents, but entertaining others ranked low on the list. Hex was the type to sit back and demand others to perform.

  “No. No more jokes,” Elle pleaded. “I can barely stop giggling.”

  Before I realized it, I’d passed my bedroom and stood on the last step, leaning my head to the side and straining to catch the male voice near her.

  “Let’s go outside so I can show you.” The man’s voice echoed in the hallway between the dining area and main sitting room.

  “There’s no such thing as gold lightning bugs and orange glittering pixies that hide under mushroom tops from garden trolls.” She’d stopped laughing, yet amusement still adorned each word. “You have an overactive imagination.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes.”

  I crept closer.

  “I hope not, sweet Elle,” the buffoon said.

  Sweet Elle? Who was this corny bastard? Had he stumbled out of a bad romance movie, those ones where the males wore tights and the women dressed in those gowns that pushed their breasts up just right, but hid their hips and legs? Sweet Elle? How did he already know she was so sweet?

  “Please, sweet Elle. Please don’t tell me I just have an overactive imagination.”

  “Why not?” she asked the idiot.

  “Because then I would be imagining this perfect angel in front of me and I don’t want this to be a dream. Are you just a hallucination, sweet Elle?”

  Again, that laugh fled her lips. My headache returned. I stormed down the last step and toward the hallway, with no idea of what I was about to do or why.

  And then I saw her.

  She stood there, a blaze of white light in the darkness. Strips of colorless fabric wrapped around that slender body and hugged each curve and bend of soft flesh. It was a strapless gown, just smooth skin across slim shoulders and the swell of cleavage that made me lick my lips. The dress’s fabric shined bright, but seemed dull in comparison to her as she flashed the unworthy prick a captivating smile. Diamonds hung from her ears. A strawberry color stained those full lips. That beautiful hair sat in a complicated up-do of some sorts, with little braids and curls, adorned with tiny white feathers. I had no idea how she managed to get all those silky strands in an elegant order, but I yearned to undo each braid and tug loose every curl.

  The foolish guy leaned on the wall in front of her. He made huge gestures as he talked. His words were clutter, once I focused on her. She giggled and the tops of her breasts jiggled. It was all too much for me. I groaned like a madman and garnered both of their attention.

  “Who’s over there?” The guy looked my way.

  I wondered how I appeared, standing in the hallway with closed fists and my teeth digging into my bottom lip.

  “Alvarez?” She leaned her head to the side. “Is something wrong?”

  I just stood there with lots of words on my tongue, but none appropriate for the moment.

  “Can he talk?” The bastard chuckled. “Or maybe I’m not the only one fantasizing about fantastical creatures under the moonlight.”

  If he says something else to her, I’ll escort him out of here and it won’t be a gentlemanly gesture.

  This time Elle didn’t respond with amusement. She handed him her glass of wine and strolled my way. “Alvarez?”

  That orange blossom perfume hit me as she approached. The lit candles in my room did their best to imitate her scent, but had failed. Her actual fragrance was intoxicating. I couldn’t get enough and wondered how her skin would taste with one lick. Would it be sweet as the juice from ripe oranges?

  “Is everything okay?” Elle asked.

  “Yes.”

  A foot rested between us, and all I longed to do was close the distance and touch her skin.

  This is madness.

  “Are you really sure everything is okay?” she whispered.

  “Yes.” I licked my lips. She parted her mouth, and had to know what was on my mind. With the hunger pounding in my groin, there was no way I was doing a good job of hiding it. Too much occurred today. Too many damn mysteries and problems, unexpected conflicts and disrupted needs. I hadn’t had time to truly sit and think about the dead girl, Elle’s position as Hex’s model, this new collection he was hiding, or even Dayanara’s attempted suicide. I’d rushed through each wound and problem, slapping a quick fix bandage on it without every truly cooling down.

  Now, I stood in front of her, unraveling right before her eyes, without any possibility of discovering the end of my rope to put me back together again. I drowned in so many sensations. Yet one feeling sang louder than all the others.

  Desire.

  Dear god, I should have called Madam Miriam for those girls. This night won’t end well if Elle’s not in my arms.

  “Something’s wrong.” She moved closer to me and kept her voice down. “You’re not acting like you were last night.”

  Interesting.

  “How did I act before?” I quirked my eyebrows.

  She hesitated for a second and then simply replied, “Like a man in control.”

  “Hey, buddy.” The guy rubbed his hands and sauntered over to us. “Get your own magic dream goddess. This one’s taken.”

  Tension thickened in the silence. I think I was supposed to laugh at his failed attempt of a joke. Instead, I glared at him like a madman.

  Elle, being the nice person she was, plastered on a strained smile. “Edward, I should talk to Alvarez about something. Is it okay if I talk with you later?”

  He glanced at me, got the silent threat that I pushed out to him, and edged back. “Sure. After I get a drink, I’ll be outside by the dance floor, hoping to get a dance with you.”

  You won’t be dancing with her tonight.

  She watched him walk off and then faced me. “Has there been another dead girl?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “There has to be. You’re acting strange.”

  “You’ve only known me for two days. How can you be so sure?”

  She opened her mouth and closed it. “Well . . . if you’re okay, then I guess I
’ll see you later.”

  She moved past me and I captured her arm. Raising her eyebrows, she gazed at my hand on her and then looked back at me. “Yes?”

  “Can we dance together?”

  A shocked expression spread on her face. Her cool demeanor melted right before my eyes. “Dance?”

  An electric charge surged between us, stronger than before. She shuddered under my fingers. It made me crazy to feel that reaction. There was something that bridged between us, if we were willing to explore it. Something told me that electric yearning, that unexplained allure would be right there, something thick and intense that neither one of us would survive if we followed all the possibilities. All this in my head from just one touch? The stop signs danced in my brain. They said let her go and turn around, run upstairs to your room or at least rush off to Madam Miriam’s discreet house of pleasure. But it was too late. I craved Elle, and she stood there warm and right in front of me.

  I’d been in control all day. Tonight, I relinquished it for another day.

  “I want to dance with you.” I slipped my fingers down that soft arm and heard an intake of breath. It thrilled me even more to realize that my caress made her crazy. I seized her hand and guided her toward the front patio where Hex held his dances.

  I should stop this, but I won’t.

  Our fingers threaded together. It was such an odd thing to do with a person I hadn’t even known two nights before, but I walked with her fingers locked against mine. “I’m sure you’ve been hearing this all night, but you are enchanting.”

  A red tint spread across her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “Who was the guy you were talking to?”

  “Oh, that was Edward. He’s one of your brother’s friends, I guess. According to him, he does pretty things with glass.”

  “Interesting.” He would be the first person on the plane tomorrow afternoon. I just had to check with Reece to make sure it happened.

  “Have you already been outside?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” She widened her smile. “Well then, let me be your tour guide for the festivities.”

  She unlatched her fingers from mine. I gritted my teeth and said nothing else, once she hooked her slim arm under mine. “We’re going to take the longest route possible to the dance floor.”

  “Why the longest route?”

  “Because it’s the most scenic.” She winked at me.

  Violin music carried on the cool breeze when I opened the door. Strings of white paper lanterns hovered over the area and bathed the space in a magical glow. Dancing couples packed the floor. Dressed in a ruby gown, a slender woman with red hair and a dragon tattooed along her neck sang a slow song about holding on to her first love.

  The singer grinned. “And I won’t let go. I’ll never let you be free.”

  Tables lined the floor full of silver bowls with pink sauces and brown soups. Several roasted pigs stuffed with apples rested on glass platters at the center of the tables, and all around the meat was tray after tray of steaming vegetables, crisp white rice, and stacks of bread dripping in butter and embellished with garlic. The food’s aroma taunted my stomach, but still it wasn’t as enticing as Elle’s perfume and not enough to drag me away from her.

  “You ensnared me in your love.” The woman spun around and swayed her hips to the violin’s melody. “You’ve captured me.”

  “What’s the name of the fragrance you’re wearing?” I asked.

  “Sakura. It’s one I used to import from Japan.”

  The singer shook her head. “I don’t have any control, no power to be free.”

  “Why did you used to import it?” I asked. “Have you stopped?”

  “Yes. I’m on a budget now. It costs several thousand dollars per bottle.”

  The singer touched her chest. “You’ve ensnared my heart and love. You captured me.”

  “I’m not on a budget,” I said. “I’ll have a case delivered to your room by the end of the week.”

  That shocked expression reappeared on Elle’s face. “You don’t have to.”

  “I know.”

  “Then thank you.” She pulled me to the side where a man in a silver costume stood. Multi-colored glitter covered his face. “Oh, look at this. He’s so funny.”

  The man juggled sharp knives with little bells at the end. There were five of them. Each time the knives flipped over, they rang out a little melody. He hummed and stuck his tongue out when it seemed that he was close to dropping them, and then after a minute or so he slung them all in the air at once.

  “Oh my god.” Elle covered her mouth. “Watch this.”

  The knives soared high into the sky. The man whistled, catching my attention. I turned back to him for a quick second, to see a tiny gray bird fly out of his mouth. A little rope with several bells trailed behind the bird as it flew away and rang that same song the knives had made.

  “How did you do that?” I scanned the sky for the knives. They had disappeared. “Where did they all go? How did you get the bird in your mouth?”

  The silver man with the glittered face shrugged and walked off to a new couple.

  “Wait a minute, how did you do that?”

  Elle tapped my shoulder. “You might as well give up. He’s not going to tell you. What would be the fun in that?”

  “But it’s insane.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s his secret to tell and it doesn’t look like he wants you to know.”

  Someone tapped my arm. “A drink, sir?”

  A woman in a huge gown twirled my way with a small tray attached to her waist. She looked like a character from one of those period films Hex loved to watch, with the huge wig that rose a foot high in white curls. Her face was powdered and painted, her dress an elaborate design of crushed velvet bows and satin. And that tray remained connected to her waist as if it had been built into the dress. Several glasses of sparkling champagne sat on it.

  How did she not fall in this dress or spill any of these glasses?

  “A drink, sir?” the woman repeated.

  “No, thank you.”

  Elle dragged me forward. “Let’s check out some more.”

  It must’ve taken Elle a good hour to show me everything. She was like a little kid at a carnival. She pointed to the flamingos strutting next to the small pond with hundreds of pink glowing candles on top of lily pads. Three elephants carried tiny ladies in clear leotards that left little to the imagination. The creatures wore huge hats with big ostrich feathers at the end. On the right, men in black drawstring pants shot flames out of their mouths and swung blazing shapes around their bodies. On the left, a man in a tuxedo showed the onlookers his huge saw and pointed to the beautiful woman in the box in front of him as he prepared to show the audience that he could magically cut her in half without bringing her any harm.

  “Isn’t this incredible?” Elle asked.

  “Oh yes.”

  “You’re probably just saying that. You’ve probably been to tons of parties like this.”

  “I don’t usually go to Hex’s gatherings, but I can assure you that this is the biggest party he’s ever thrown.”

  “If you’ve never gone, how do you know this is the biggest one?”

  “Because I always pay the bills.”

  “Good point.” She pulled me forward. “Oh wait. I have to show you the clowns up ahead.”

  I tensed. “No thank you. We should go dance.”

  “It’ll be real quick. These are the coolest clowns I’ve ever seen.”

  I stopped in the grassy path and refused to go any farther. “I don’t really like clowns.”

  “No?” She quirked her eyebrows.

  “They’re just not my thing.” I risked a look in the direction where she’d pointed. A clown walked on stilts far ahead. I cringed.

  She chuckled. “Oh my God. Hex was right! You’re afraid of clowns?”

  “It’s not that I’m afraid of them. I just choose not to be around them.”

&n
bsp; “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “So if I call a clown over here, then what will happen?”

  “I’ll probably scream like a little girl, punch him in the face, and run away.”

  She covered her face and did her best to stop her laughter, but it spilled out of her just the same.

  “Fine. Laugh at me if you want, but it’s not nice to laugh at somebody who has coulrophobia. It’s a serious thing to be afraid of clowns. Not that I’m afraid of them.”

  “Of course not. You just choose to not be around them.”

  “Exactly.”

  She waved her hands and still giggled. “I know . . . it’s just. You’re just so big and. . . .” She laughed even louder.

  “You’re a mean one, Elle.” I smirked and guided her away from the wretched monsters in colorful wigs. “Wait until I find the things you’re afraid of. I bet I’ll have a good laugh, too.”

  We took our time moving through the crowd and headed toward the dance floor. Minutes passed. We talked about the movies we liked and some of our favorite actors. For once in a long time, I had no worry on my mind or task to complete. For once, I relaxed and enjoyed the moment before me—a beautiful party under glittering stars with a captivating woman next to me.

  “Should I make sure there aren’t any clowns on the dance floor?” she asked.

  “Very funny.”

  As soon as we reached the dance floor, I gathered her in my arms. Her body stiffened for a few seconds and then molded against mine. I battled with the groan that dared to leave my mouth. Pillowy breasts pressed into my chest as she rested her small arms on my shoulder. I had to focus all of my energy on keeping my hands at the center of her back and not letting them slip down to the curve of her behind.

  She directed her gaze to me as she lifted her head and formed her lips into an amused smile.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.